If you have no use for humankind and mortal armor,
At least respect the gods. They know right from wrong.
They don't forget.

— Virgil, The Aeneid

The Empyrean, of all Heaven’s vastness,
And I, claimant of eight terrible brooding Angels,
Each face to shower the world of Man
In beauty unmatched nor known before this time,
Heralding, too, a peace unbeknownst to us,
The lower mortals.